The outer floors of the Bernar Pharmaceutical Factory were patrolled in pairs, six pairs total, covering floors one through three.
“Why’s it so quiet today?” one guard muttered. He was a local native, but his pronunciation was rough in the non-native language they used.
“Everyone’s slacking. Look at the time—it’s late, people are tired. Nothing to worry about,” his partner said, glancing at his watch and pointing to his radio. “As long as no alarms go off, we do nothing.”
As they patrolled the corridor, the ceiling lights seemed to dim gradually. The walls’ posters, previously clearly visible, were now barely discernible.
In the center of the corridor, a plaster angel sculpture stood in shadow, simply wrapped in a white cloth.
The guard rubbed his eyes. “Who moved the sculpture?”
He picked up the radio, pressing the talk button. “Warehouse? Is someone moving things on the second floor?”
No response came.
Suddenly, the pure white figure appeared right before them.
The guards realized it was not a sculpture but a flawless, pale omega boy. His features were sharp, expression cold and indifferent. On his forehead, an inverted triangle of gold, blue, and green dots gleamed. He held a glass hourglass in his arms.
“Who are you?!” one guard shouted in surprise. The other reacted faster, firing his stun gun at the boy.
The boy replied calmly, “Wangliang…”
He flipped the hourglass upside down. The sand flowed backward.
The incoming stun projectile stopped midair and flew back toward the gun, returning to the barrel. In the few milliseconds, the projectile lost all power, while the stun gun itself sparked wildly. A massive current knocked one guard unconscious; the other struggled to breathe as the oxygen in his blood rapidly drained.
Wangliang Hourglass slowly crouched, opened the top of the hourglass, and inserted the guard inside.
His hands fused to the top and bottom of the hourglass, making the operation strenuous. The guard’s body was forced into the much smaller hourglass, like a carrot into a juicer. Inside the glass, the body transformed into white flowing sand, becoming part of Wangliang Hourglass.
Two bodies went in, yet the sand surface barely changed—like a bottomless void consuming all.
Wangliang Hourglass continued down the corridor. The two guards who blocked him were as if they had never existed, leaving no trace.
The sounds of people vanished wherever he went, turning the outer floor into a ghostly dead space.
Suddenly, a round explosive landed at his feet. Before he could react, it detonated with a blinding flash and buzzing noise, interfering with his hearing. His hands were still fused to the hourglass, unable to cover his ears, and the shrill noise caused him intense pain.
Ying, using his J1 ability, threw flashbangs blindly at Wangliang’s feet, chanting, “Don’t come near! Don’t come near! Lu Yan, hurry up!”
Although confused, Wangliang tried to invert the hourglass again. Unexpectedly, a sniper bullet shot through a window, piercing his left hand precisely.
The boy’s hand, fragile as glass, shattered from the shot’s power, knocking him several steps backward.
He wanted to escape, but Lu Yan blocked his path.
Lu Yan held two PSS silenced pistols, aiming at Wangliang. “Where do you think you’re going? You’ve already messed up our comms.”
Two silenced rounds flew toward Wangliang. Alert, he located Lu Yan, and the hourglass top, shattered by Xiao Xun’s sniper shot, rapidly reformed, restoring his hand. Wangliang immediately inverted the hourglass, sending the bullets flying back in the opposite direction.
“Do you really think I’ll fall for a trick you’ve already used?” Before firing, Lu Yan had charged his innate ability, Supersonic. His power could accelerate from 0 to 100 km/h instantly, reach sound speed in 3.2 seconds, and break the supersonic barrier in 6 seconds. As he fired, he was already speeding behind Wangliang, kicking him back to his previous position.
The returning bullets struck Wangliang’s left shoulder and skull. The pale white body shattered at the points of impact but did not bleed. Wangliang looked like a glass sculpture with a crushed jaw and shoulder, clutching the hourglass and staring at him.
“Wha—he… he’s not hurt?!” Under those misty white eyes, Lu Yan shivered, instinctively stepping back and murmuring, “Do I have to completely destroy him? Should I… fire?” His hand brushed the air where Bi Lanxing should have been, realizing he wasn’t with him this time.
Lu Yan’s hesitation gave Wangliang a chance to counterattack. His damaged body slowly healed, then he inverted the hourglass again. A section of the ceiling above Lu Yan aged rapidly, causing the attached lights to crash down.
Lu Yan dodged one, then more sharp steel beams and bricks fell as the debris aged and crumbled like rain. He leapt and twisted to avoid them, but the entire roof collapsed. Lu Yan was slammed to the ground under the falling debris, glass shards raining down on him.
“Ugh…” he groaned, sharp pain stabbing his back, bones possibly broken. He tried to crawl, but the rubble pinned him.
A vine sprouted from the ground, lifting the steel and bricks off him. Another black vine grew before him.
“Lanxing!” Lu Yan grabbed it, and it quickly retracted, dragging him from the wreckage.
Bi Lanxing pulled him into his arms, and the force sent both tumbling. Lanxing landed face-up, Lu Yan on top of him.
“My spine… my spine’s broken!” Lu Yan sobbed, sniffling and panicked. Bi Lanxing quickly checked him over, then extended a vine to seal the corridor. “Ying, upstairs!” he shouted, then slipped a cold, sweat-damp hand inside Lu Yan’s clothes, tracing the spine. Rubbing gently, he released calming pheromones. “It’s not broken. Just bruised.”
With the comms down and Team B out of touch, Bi Lanxing had panicked, but thankfully Xiao Xun’s comms were intact. Using his reports from outside, he located Lu Yan and Ying.
Bi Lanxing set Lu Yan in a safe spot, breathing a sigh of relief, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead.
A drop of snot hung from Lu Yan’s pink nose. He stirred, slightly pained but clearly unbroken, just a scrape.
“Ah…” He scrambled up, wiping his face, embarrassed; his rabbit ears curled like a cake roll.
“Where’s Doctor Han?”
“He should’ve been in the surveillance room. We just came in through Entrance A when contact was suddenly lost.” Lu Yan removed the comm from his ear and showed it to Bi Lanxing. “I understand now. That subject can break things—flip the hourglass, and objects reverse function, return along their original path, or instantly age and break.”
“Follow me upstairs first.” Bi Lanxing pulled Lu Yan along the dim staircase.
“Receiving responses, receiving responses.” Bi Lanxing kept trying to contact the others, brows furrowed in anxiety.
Han Xingqian hadn’t completely lost contact on their way, but each time he reported his position, the signal dropped. Now, they couldn’t reach him at all. All they knew was that Han Xingqian kept moving on the outer floors.
Lu Yan followed Bi Lanxing closely, hands tightly clasped. Through the fingerless gloves, he could feel the alpha’s warmth.
Though they had grown up together, Lu Yan noticed how much taller and steadier Lanxing had become—his voice calm and dependable.
“You’re amazing,” Lu Yan whispered.
Bi Lanxing stayed silent, eyes fixed ahead.
“I’m not amazing. I just got scolded by Chu-ge.”
“That’s because he’s stronger, not because you’re weak. He calls me a dumb rabbit, but I can take down the other trainees. There’s always someone stronger than you—you don’t have to be the best in the universe, just the best in your class.”
After some distance, the comms suddenly restored, and Bi Lanxing reconnected with Ying and Xiao Xun. Tan Qing and Tan Yang were with them.
They were in a circular corridor. Aside from Xiao Xun positioned on a high point outside, the group converged on the third floor.
Bi Lanxing asked, “Xiao, where’s Wangliang?”
Xiao Xun replied, “He disappeared—vanished into thin air. I saw it myself. Before losing contact, Han said he went toward Entrance C. I can only monitor Areas A, F, and E from here. I can’t see the other three. Do you want me to move?”
“Move—counterclockwise. When you can see Area C, report it.” Bi Lanxing gave orders while holding the comm, descending the stairs. On the second-to-last step, the comm cut out, then signal returned when he picked it back up.
“Wangliang Hourglass’s ability has a range. Looks like it radiates about twenty meters from where he uses it. There’s probably also a duration.” Bi Lanxing looked up. “Give me a backup comm.”
Lu Yan handed him another from his pocket.
Bi Lanxing set it to self-destruct mode. In this mode, the comm emits warning signals to other connected devices but loses all other functionality.
The comm device was stuck beneath the staircase railing, within the area affected by Wangliang’s differentiation ability.
Bi Lanxing instructed Xiao Xun to monitor it constantly and report whenever the warning signal sounded.
Once that was set, Bi Lanxing led the others toward Area C on the third floor.
“Chu-ge, Lan Bo, how’s it going on your side?” Only now, truly directing the squad, did Bi Lanxing realize how exhausting the commander’s position was. He had to keep constant attention on every team member’s status. Every operation the special ops team had conducted before had been directed by Chu-ge, giving a sense of the immense pressure he bore.
Bai Chunian replied, “Lan Bo and I are on the mid-level floor. Everything’s going smoothly for now. I’ve been following your orders all along—well done.”
From Lan Bo’s end came soft rustling sounds, likely him climbing along the wall.
“We’ll meet up with Han-ge first, then join you on the mid-level floor.”
Han Xingqian was at the Entrance C second-floor corridor, having walked a long loop of the building. During this, he had already encountered Wangliang’s Hourglass several times.
A wall-mounted clock ticked above him. Its face bore the manufacturer’s label; all the clocks were standardized by the pharmaceutical factory owner for employee use. Han Xingqian had deliberately counted, timing it to the second.
It was 2:34 a.m. He leaned against the wall, waiting. When the minute hand pointed to seven, he suddenly stretched his hand into the air.
In the empty corridor, Wangliang’s hourglass body materialized right where Han Xingqian’s hand reached.
Han Xingqian grabbed his neck. Snow-white wings unfurled behind him, a single feather brushing Wangliang’s head. Using his A3 ability, Pegasus Wings, he neutralized the changes caused by the inverted hourglass.
“Why have you come?”
Han lowered his head, whispering, pressing the elongated spiral horn on his forehead against Wangliang’s.
The Pegasus gland’s secondary ability, Sacred Beast Perambulation, could read minds when its horn contacted another’s head.